Scenes Inbetween
by bookstoreromantic
Summary: Various "deleted scenes" from different episodes. Mostly Captain Swan, but some Charming Family drabbles as well
1. I Failed Here

3.10 "The New Neverland": A short conversation between Emma and Hook

Hook stood in place by the door to the Mills tomb, waiting for both Henry and Emma to enter before following them inside and down the hidden steps. The shadow was still a threat, and he was under no illusion that being trapped in Pan's body would in any way keep the boy safe.

He was about to follow the others deeper into the crypt when he noticed that Emma had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She was facing the queen's wall of hearts, her left hand stretched out towards the glowing boxes, hovering, as though afraid to touch.

"You alright there, Swan?"

She jumped, her fingers clenching into a fist, arm dropping to her side as she turned to look at him. "Yeah... I just... I haven't been here before. Kind of creepy."

He leaned against the archway to the next antechamber and tried to get a read on what she wasn't saying. "Never been much for secret lairs myself, but I suppose I can understand the appeal."

Her lips twitched into something that tried to be a smile but her eyes went back to the beating hearts. Hook watched her for another moment, the strange rhythm of the stolen hearts filling the space between them, but it seemed she had no desire to engage in further conversation. Whatever was troubling her, she'd decided to keep to herself.

He was about to move on and leave her be when she spoke. "You said you've never seen me fail." Hook turned back to her, good hand slipping into the pocket of his coat. "On Neverland, you said—"

"I remember."

"I failed here. Before the curse broke. A good man died because I didn't believe, because I didn't fight hard enough."

Hook said nothing, walking back to stand next to her. She was fiddling with the shoelace on her wrist and his eyes went to the two empty boxes in Regina's collection. It was not lost on him that whoever she had lost must have died in the same way as Milah. It was probably too much to hope that she hadn't had to witness it.

"I knew something was wrong with Henry. I should have pushed the issue, I shouldn't have let people try and distract me. She died because I didn't work hard enough to save her."

"The fairy's death is on Pan, not you."

"I'm the saviour," she hissed.

"Doesn't mean you save everyone. You can't save everyone Emma."

"Then what the hell good am I?"

Killian shut his eyes as her voice broke despite the effort to keep her words quiet. "You're hope. Hope and the chance to fight and save ourselves." He tapped the empty box closest to him with the curve of his hook. "Regina had his heart, didn't she?" She nodded. They were facing each other now, and he made sure she was looking him in the eye when he spoke. "The deck was stacked against you then, but this isn't Neverland; Pan isn't on his home turf. You won't fail. You're not alone in it this time."

"I know," she whispered.

He saw it then—the fear flickered across her face before she could lock it behind one of her tight smiles. Not being alone meant there was more to lose. And she had lost so much already, he doubted she could bear to lose more.

He made a vow in that moment. Silently, for he knew she wouldn't accept the words. Knew that she would (rightly) say he had no way of keeping such a promise. But he made it anyway.

He would never be something that she lost.


	2. Come Back

3.12 "New York City Serenade": A collection of missing scenes from Emma's POV

"_Hook."_

"_Did you miss me?"_

They're walking, and he's going on again about baloney sandwiches and Jell-O and other horrifying delicacies that she grew up eating. Emma can only make herself half pay attention, but that's probably why he's doing it. Silence would be too heavy, and he knows her well enough to know that she needs a moment (or several) to sort all the memories back into place. Her parents are in danger, but she can't even wrap her head around the fact that _she knows who they are_, let alone snap into saviour-mode just yet.

She doesn't even realize that they've reached her building (or that that's where they were headed) until they've stopped outside the front gate. She bites the inside of her lip and meets Hook's eyes for the first time since drinking the potion. He's stopped his treatise on the virtues of Enchanted Forest cuisine and is watching her, waiting.

Emma swallows the lump in her throat. "Henry is upstairs and I…"

"Aye, I understand. You need time to explain to the lad."

She shakes her head. "I can't yet. I don't even know…" She sighs, presses her lips together, and starts again. "I'm supposed to drop him off at a friend's around six thirty. Can you come back then and fill me in on everything?"

Hook nods. "I'll be here."

"Thank you."

He quirks an eyebrow at her and she refuses to blush as the memory of _gratitude_ floats to the surface. He doesn't say anything, just gives a slight bow of the head and then turns to walk away. Emma is suddenly reminded of the last time, the last _real_ time, at the town line, and she has to suck in a breath to keep from calling after him. She chews the inside of her lip as she watches him go. He doesn't look back.

_You'll see him tonight_, she reminds herself. She's glad there's a bottle of rum sitting in her liquor cabinet.

* * *

"_What in blazes was that?"_

"_A reminder. That I was never safe."_

It's easier this way, in some twisted sense of the word. At least she doesn't have to feel guilty about ending things and leaving town so suddenly. At least if it was fake like everything else there shouldn't be any lingering _might have been's_. (There are, but that's another matter.) (She doesn't think they're about _him_, specifically.) The fight has brought her out of her head and back into her body. She feels like the saviour again, like the sheriff, and she's planning out all the things that have to get done tonight and making a mental packing list when she realizes that there was no body on the sidewalk and Henry might have told Walsh where he was planning on being that night.

She really cannot handle another Operation Cobra Rescue right now.

Hook is watching her, cataloguing her movements in that way that he does. She ignores him and puts the rum away then pulls out her phone to call Henry.

He's not happy about her coming to get him, but he's a smart kid and he senses that something is off so he doesn't complain.

Emma and Hook are outside the building when she realizes that she still has no idea what she's going to tell her son. She wonders if maybe she can just stuff him full of ice cream and pack once he goes to bed.

"Where have you been staying?"

Hook's thumb tucks into his belt. It makes her wonder where he got the fake hand from this time around. "At Neal's. I made sure to be scarce after giving you the address."

Emma nods, but then winces a little. "Henry's friend lives in the other direction. I would offer you a ride but—"

"Go see to your lad. Are you certain you don't wish for me to accompany you? If you're attacked again—"

"I've got it covered." She follows his gaze as it flicks down to where her hand rests on her gun. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Aye." A pause and then, "Sweet dreams, Swan."

She smiles and gets into the car, watching him walk away through the rear view mirror as she pulls onto the street.

* * *

"_Why are you wearing that?"_

"_Why are __you__ wearing __that__?"_

The first hour goes okay, but the two of them start to drive her crazy before long. Emma really wants to stretch her legs, but after his rant about baloney yesterday she's more than a little afraid of taking Killian into a rest stop to re-fuel. He's over three hundred years old, yet he's been bickering with her son like a child. It's playful, (mostly) but Emma recalls a lighter and a shadow and wonders if it wasn't jealousy over Neal but really just the pirate being an actual thirteen year-old boy. Neverland is the place where you never grow up, after all.

She smirks at the thought and ignores Hook's questioning look. Cranking up her playlist of driving songs, she tells Henry to leave Killian alone and to start playing on his iPad, then shoots Hook a warning glance. He grins at her in response and turns his head to look out the window.

Emma ignores the way her stomach flips because this feels familiar, feels good, but it's one thing she's certain she's never had in either set of memories. _It's just nerves about going back_, she tells herself.

She keeps driving. She can wait a bit longer before braving a restaurant with them.

(She's a little insulted when Hook later chooses Henry's lunch recommendation over hers.)

* * *

"_Where are you going?"_

"_To talk to my parents."_

David comes down to the bug with her to help bring the bags up and Hook pushes off from the side of the car when he sees them approach. The two men greet each other with a handshake, and Emma watches the silent conversation that passes between her father and the pirate from the corner of her eye as she moves to wake Henry up.

"Henry, this is David. We're going to be staying with him and his wife for a little bit."

He's groggy, but he shakes David's hand before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Where's Killian staying?"

Her eyes flick up to Hook but it's David who speaks, slinging a bag over his shoulder. "You're welcome to the couch, if you want."

"Think I'll take my chances at the inn, mate."

David shrugs and starts to lead her son towards the loft. Emma takes her time locking the bug and grabbing the last of the bags.

"We'll see you at Granny's in the morning?"

"Aye."

She nods and gives him a small smile. "Goodnight, Hook."

"Welcome home, Swan."

It's the third time in two days that she's watched him walk away. Something unclenches in her gut when she realizes it's not the number of times that he leaves she should be counting but the number of times he comes back.

She heads back to the loft and checks on Henry. New York had been a good dream, but maybe its legacy doesn't have to be the loss of her happy ending. Maybe the ease of happiness she had there can help her find the good moments among the curses and the chaos.

Even before finding out her parents had (most of) their memories, she knew she wasn't going to be alone in it this time.

"Welcome to Storybrooke, kid," she murmurs, ruffling a hand through his hair.

She's at the top of the stairs, about to go unwind from the drive with her parents and a glass of wine when Henry's voice reaches her.

"Mom? Why was Killian wearing a hook?"

_He came back to save __her__._

* * *

_Not really sure what this is, but I needed something to make the timeline make sense - i.e. why Emma drank the potion in the afternoon but was only drinking with Hook at night, and why Henry would come home for breakfast inbetween a sleepover and going to school._


	3. Conversations Not In Doorways

3.13 "Witch Hunt" : Hook and Emma share a drink their first night back in Storybrooke

Hook watched as Emma stopped at the door to her room. The last twenty four hours had been hard on her. The memory potion, the beast of an (almost) fiancé, the return to Storybrooke, it had all built up on her shoulders and now she was staring down at the key in her hand like opening the door was the last thing she ever wanted to do. It made him wonder what sort of sleep she'd been graced with the night before.

He fiddled with the key to his own lodgings, waiting to see if she was intending to stand in the hall the entire night, before breaking the silence. "Something on your mind, love?"

Emma blinked a few times before looking over her shoulder at him. "Is there anything _not_ on my mind?" It was intended to be sarcastic, but the accompanying eye roll lacked enthusiasm.

He winced and his grip on the key tightened. "Fancy a nightcap, then?"

She blinked again and opened her mouth to say something but apparently thought better of it. A moment later she was next to him, hands shoved in her pockets and eyebrows raised. He smiled and quirked a brow in reply, sliding the key in the lock and holding the door open so she could enter ahead of him. Emma flicked on the lights and took a seat in a chair by the window. Grabbing a pair of glasses from the low table in front of her, he popped open his flask to pour. Their fingers brushed as she took the drink from him and Hook held his breath in a vain attempt to ease the tightness in his chest. Her eyes slid from his to outside and she didn't so much as bring the glass to her lips—just sat and swirled the amber liquid absently.

His legs were still tight and cramped from their voyage so he leaned against the wooden set of drawers rather than take the chair opposite her. The rum sent a familiar burn down his throat that he chased after for comfort as he waited for her to speak. He was about to believe that she'd truly just come for the drink when she gestured out the window.

"Granny usually charges extra for the town view."

"She must like me." He winked and put as much cheerfulness as he could muster into the statement but it fell flat in the heavy air between them. It felt the same as the night prior, when they had sat across the table from one another in her New York apartment and he wondered how long it would take to clear. She finally lifted the rum to her lips, but her eyes stayed fixed on the street and Hook took a fortifying breath. If flirting and innuendo wouldn't crack her thoughts there was only one thing left that might. He never had been good at leaving something well enough alone—despite the fact that the thought was enough to cause pain to them both (though, he supposed, for different reasons).

"He will turn up, Swan."

"It's not that." Emma winced and her lips twisted into a wry sort of grimace. "I mean, it is," she corrected quickly, "I am worried about Neal. But right now I'm just relieved that I don't have to deal with it yet. It's one thing to tell Henry that Mary Margaret and David are old friends, but his father is another matter. Neal won't like it if I ask him to back off, but Henry doesn't know he's ever even had a relationship with him."

"What _does_ the lad know of his father?" he asked, curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"The same thing I knew until yesterday." He raised an eyebrow and brought his glass to his lips, indicating for her to go on. Emma sighed and finally met his eyes. "He knows that his father was a con and a thief, and that he left me and let me go to jail for helping him get away with something _he_ did. I can't exactly explain that there's more to the story. Not when the rest of it is that he was afraid of seeing Rumplestiltskin again and Pinocchio told him he was interfering with my destiny as the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming."

"Sounds like bollocks to me, and I have my memories." Hook knew enough about this realm—and about Emma—that he could reason her imprisonment was what had caused her to give Henry up for adoption in the first place. He couldn't guess at what false circumstances Regina had concocted that had allowed her to keep him in the false life and he wasn't cruel enough to ask. "You're not worried about her majesty?"

Emma shook her head and he caught the hint of a sad smile before she turned her face back to the window. "You don't know what she gave us. Maybe I should be, but I've known Regina for over a year now and I'd like to think—after everything—that we've come to an understanding as far as Henry is concerned. Neal and I… we're not there yet." She took another drink before quietly adding, "He doesn't like listening to me about things like this."

Hook pretended not to hear that last bit—though whether for her sake or his own he wasn't certain. "It will all work out, love."

"For who?" she asked, looking up at him. He didn't have an answer. When they'd been returned to the Enchanted Forest, Baelfire had been desperate to get back to Emma and Henry. Hook knew from experience that desperate souls were capable of dark things, and that particular brand of desperation ran in the blood. It made him wonder if Bae's unknown status in Storybrooke was connected to the curse the crocodile had created.

He rubbed idly at the base of the glass with his ring. Fear gnawed at him but he pushed it aside. There was little point in saying anything until he knew more and it would gain him nothing to risk slandering the father of Emma's child.

Finally tired of the silence that had settled between them, Emma downed the rest of her rum and sat forward to put the glass back on the table. "Thanks for the drink," she said, standing up and giving him a smile that hit nowhere near her eyes.

"Anytime, Swan." Setting his own glass down on the dresser, he followed her to the door and stepped ahead to open it for her.

She stopped on the threshold and took a deep breath before turning back to him. "And… thank you, for bringing me back."

A corner of his mouth twitched but Emma didn't stick around for a response. Fishing the key out of her pocket, she crossed the short distance to the room she shared with her son and glanced back over her shoulder only briefly before slipping inside. Closing his own door, Hook downed the rest of his rum and sat in the chair where she had been moments before. The drink and conversation swirled in his head and he turned to look out the window before eventually shutting his eyes.

* * *

It occurred to me after 3.16 that Hook didn't seem surprised when Emma mentioned the whole going-to-jail thing. And while he's got a good read on her, it's not THAT good, which meant she had probably told him at some point. The end of that episode also made me really want to see them talking at the end of the day on a regular basis, like it's a normal thing for them - especially in cases where they're not actually working together during the day. So I took the first night back in Storybrooke as an opportunity for them to have a not-doorway conversation about Neal and the jail, and for Emma to thank Hook for returning her memories (which she mentioned she'd already done in 3.13).


	4. Hook v Ice Wall

_a/n: I've read (and enjoyed) plenty of post-4.02 fics since the episode aired last night, and didn't think I really had much original to throw in the ring. The need to fic was strong, however, so I stuck to bits of the episode that we didn't get to see._

4.02 "White Out": Missing Moments

Only twice before has he ever felt so damned useless and he refuses to give into the feeling because he cannot — he cannot lose her as he did Milah and Liam. He _will_ not. She is strong, his saviour, and she has magic. She will come out of this ordeal alive.

* * *

The Dark One is unwilling to help, and he balls his hand into a fist, forcing himself to follow Dave out of the pawn shop and towards their next destination. He does not believe for a moment that Rumplestiltskin is incapable of a more precise melting of the ice barrier. He wants to throttle the man, but he wants to save Emma more.

By the time Elsa's message crackles through the radio he is in a panic. Whoever this woman is, the threat she poses to Emma seems to have been more accident than pre-planned violence. Knowing that she's concerned for Emma's safety, that his Swan is slipping into deadly sleep, just makes him all the more furious. Dave could have had the dwarves chipping away at the ice while they searched Storybrooke for this missing sister but Emma's father had been afraid of setting the woman off and putting his daughter in even greater danger.

Now she is dying, and an enchanted shepherd's crook is not much hope to cling to. But it has to be enough. Emma does not have time for anything else.

* * *

She is shaking as he carries her to the cruiser, mumbling something about rum barrels into his neck. He shifts her slightly as they come to a stop and presses his head to hers for a moment, breathing her in and reminding himself that she is alive, and she will be okay.

"I've got to set you down to open the door, love," he says. She helps him as best she can, leaning on the car, supported between him and the metal.

David and Elsa come around, the former telling the anxious queen that they'll use the shepherd's crook at the loft while Emma is warming up. Elsa gives the police cruiser a skeptical look.

"It's ok. It's safe," Emma says through gritted teeth, obviously trying to repress her shivering. It's amazing to him that even half-frozen she is still trying to reassure others.

Killian guides her into the rear seat and follows her in. Her stiff fingers struggle with the seatbelt and she gives up on it when he moves to help her, opting to just stay tucked into his side. He regrets not taking his coat off to wrap around her, but Dave is making quick time back to the darkened buildings of Storybrooke and the heat is blasting at them through the vents. Emma's hands feel cold even through his vest and he hugs her closer, grateful that she is at least allowing herself to be cared for.

* * *

That impulse doesn't seem to extend to allowing herself to be carried up the stairs, however. It takes him on one side of her and Dave on the other to slowly help her up to the loft, Elsa trailing behind. Henry opens the door soon after they knock and the lad's face falls when he sees his mother's state.

"What happened?" he asks, standing aside to let them all in.

"'s a long story," she mumbles and Killian snorts. She's been feeling a bit more like herself since the car ride — muttering complaints all the way up the stairs — but he knows she's just trying not to worry her son.

"You got trapped in an ice cave. It's not a long story at all."

She sucks a breath in through her nose as they guide her over to a large chair in the sitting area. Killian lingers over her shoulder, hand running gently back and forth over her coat. He is loath to leave her side just yet, glad that David has gone in search of blankets.

"Just had to prove I was the cool… coolest mom in town, that's all."

"That's terrible, Mom," Henry says, rolling his eyes even as he clasps her hand tight between both of his.

She wheezes out a chuckle and searches the room. "Speaking of mom's, where's…"

"There's a note that she left to try and start the back-up generator and she hopes she'll be back soon."

Dave emerges with an armload of blankets and quilts and Killian suddenly feels useless again, unequipped to help her warm up and yet unwilling to leave her fully in the care of her family. He almost lost her today and he knows it would have been a thousand times worse than the year he spent without her.

Emma's free hand gropes for his and he kneels next to the chair, his thumb running circuits over her knuckles as she is covered in blankets. No force (or father) in the realm could make him leave her side so long as she wants him near. He will sleep on the floor beside her if he must.

* * *

Killian blinks to keep his eyes open. The loft has gone quiet and his right leg is numb. Emma sleeps curled up in the chair, half on his lap, while everyone else has gone to bed. He holds her close, his hand soothing each involuntary shiver that ripples through her. They come further apart now, but he had promised her that he would stay awake and keep vigil. That he would make sure she was alright as she slept.

Across the room, young Neal wakes and Emma stirs in her sleep, rubbing her eyes and looking up at him. He smiles softly at her and her returned smile turns into a yawn.

"Not a terrible second date, all things considered," she mumbles, burrowing back into his shoulder and adjusting the blanket over them as her mother rises to feed the baby. "I've had worse."

"I think we can do better," he says, and kisses the top of her head.


	5. A Conversation Not to Plan

_a/n: Pre-4.04, Henry has a talk with his mother_

4.04 "The Apprentice": A Conversation Not Quite to Plan

It's as quiet a morning as they get in the loft these days— which mostly just means that nobody is running late, crying and screaming, or being called off to deal with yet another crisis. Emma sits at the counter, halfway through a bowl of cereal, while her mother paces the loft trying to get her little brother to burp. David's in the shower and Henry is slathering peanut butter on his toast and it's just… peaceful. It's moments like these that sometimes make her think she really could be the Saviour and still have the kind of life she wants. Moments like these… and moments like last night.

Okay, so maybe kissing Killian in front of Granny's (twice) before even going out on a date isn't exactly the normal way to start a relationship but hey— he's Captain Hook and she's the daughter of fairy tale royalty. Nothing about them is ever going to be normal.

She must have gotten lost in her thoughts at some point because she suddenly notices that Henry is leaning on his elbows on the opposite side of the counter, watching her intently while munching on toast.

"So how long have you and Killian been going out?" he asks with absolutely no preamble.

It makes Emma nearly choke on her Cheerio's, earning her a startled look from her mother. "I… what?"

Her son rolls his eyes. (And God, how many times has she given someone that exact same look?)

"I'm not an idiot, you know. I saw you guys the night Elsa was here, after you nearly froze to death. And you were totally making out with him last night. Mom and I drove past and you guys didn't even notice."

"I— that was just—" she sputters, trying to come up with an excuse.

"There was also that time outside of Granny's the night of your brother's naming," her mother supplies helpfully, clearly amused by the conversation in the kitchen.

Emma can feel her cheeks flaming and she wishes desperately that the ground would open up and swallow her whole, but that doesn't seem to be on Storybrooke's list of catastrophes for the day.

"Well, okay, yeah, we've kissed," she starts, "But we're not, like, _together_ together or anything. Yet," she adds with a wince.

"What does that even mean?" Henry asks through a mouthful of toast.

"It means… it means we're not dating because we haven't gone on a date yet." Emma shoves a spoonful of cereal in her mouth to make her answer seem more definitive, pleased that she managed to come up with a somewhat plausible explanation.

Henry straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest. "But you want to."

"_He_ certainly does," she mutters, knowing that behind her, her mother is giving her a pointed look.

"What about you?"

"I'm… not against the idea." Suddenly his defensive posture hits her and Emma sets her spoon down. "Are you?"

"Am I against it?"

"Yeah. I know it hasn't been that long since your dad—"

Her son cuts her off by covering her hand with his. "Mom, stop. Just stop. You deserve to be happy and I'm not gonna let you try and use me as an excuse not to be. Okay?"

She sighs and squeezes his hand, rising to clear the dishes. This was not how she had planned on this conversation going. (Not that she had a plan, mind you, just that _this_ certainly wouldn't have been it.)

"Okay."

Henry nods and throws his coat and schoolbag on. "Good. Now you can drive me part of the way to school; we'll stop at the diner so you can ask him out."

"I— wait, what?" she gapes, but Henry's already out the door. Emma blinks a few times and turns to her mother to make sure that that really just happened but Mary Margaret's just making the baby wave to her with a smile pasted on her face and mouthing "good luck."

Right then. Looks like she's asking Captain Hook out to dinner.

She's really, really glad that her dad is still in the shower.

_ What the hell is she gonna wear?_


	6. An Adorable Pirate

4.22 "Operation Mongoose": An Adorable Pirate

_a/n: There's gonna be so much angsty speculation fic after that finale but all I want is Emma and allergic-to-rum Killian fluff._

* * *

Emma closes her eyes and lets the wind and sea spray clear away the feeling of being trapped in that tower. God, it felt like it had been years that she'd been stuck there. She'd tried to tell them — tell her mother when she'd been imprisoned, tell Lily over and over and over again but neither of them had listened. It had felt hopeless, but she'd refused to give up. And sure enough, the story wasn't over yet. There was still time to set things right.

"Are you doing alright, lass?"

She blinks her eyes open at Killian's question and smiles. Somehow it hadn't surprised her at all that her son had gone to him to help spring her free. "Yeah," she answers. "I'll be better when this is done though."

He nods, fidgeting a little in front of her and she fights another smile. It's cute. She's not sure she's ever found him cute before — handsome, striking, happy, breathtaking at times even — but never cute. She's pretty sure he'd object to the descriptor were he himself.

"Do you, ah... do you need anything?"

Emma looks down at her torn and ripped gown, and scrunches up her face at the thought of their upcoming trek through the woods. "Got anything I could change into, by any chance?"

"There're a couple women on the crew. One of them's about your size. I could show you her quarters, if you like."

"Sounds great," she says, and turns to where Henry is standing at the helm, a massive grin on his face. "Hey kid, we're going below deck for a minute. Don't crash us, alright?"

Her son sends her a big thumbs up and she beams at him before following Killian below deck. God, her son is amazing.

Killian pulls out a change of clothes for her — _Pants! Finally!_ — and she takes them gratefully.

"Should I be worried about these other women on your ship?" she teases and her pirate flushes a deep crimson. It's enough to almost make her burst out laughing. If Killian blushes so much when she teases him about women, what's he going to do when she asks him to help her get out of her dress?

"Annie's as fierce as any pirate, but I'm afraid it's Captain Blackbeard we'll have to be worried about once we reach port. He's likely to have us killed for stealing his ship. Or me, at least," he adds, almost as an afterthought.

_A deckhand_, her son had said, and she wonders at what backstory Gold gave him. Not a happy one, surely.

"Henry mentioned something about that."

"Your son's a true spitfire," he says and she beams proudly even as he hesitates before asking, "Is it true, what he claims?"

Her smile softens and she nods. "Yeah. I know it seems crazy..."

"I've heard taller tales."

"You have?"

"Aye. Pirates are notorious exaggerators."

"I'll have to remember that," she says, grinning at him. He blushes again, which just makes her smile even wider.

"I should, ah, leave you to change."

"Wait." Her hand catches his arm just before he reaches the door and he stares down at it. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

"Your wrist..." he says, passing over her words completely. Emma flicks her gaze down to where the chains have rubbed her skin raw.

"It's fine," she says, brushing it off. But he's trailing his fingers gently over the marks and she's not even sure he's aware that he's doing it. Suddenly the room seems much too small for the two of them.

"We should bandage them," he says softly.

She shakes her head. "I can't afford to lose the flexibility in case I need to fight."

"You're skilled with a blade?"

"I've had a couple good teachers," she smirks, and holy shit she is flirting with him. "They like to bet on which one of them I'll beat first."

"Could you show me? In case it comes to it? I want to be able to help." His eyes meet hers and it's so earnest, his face so worried and open.

Emma places her other hand over his and smiles encouragingly. "Definitely."


	7. Too Much of a Good Thing

Post-5.04 "The Broken Kingdom"

_a/n: I haven't had to write fix-it fic all season. Should have guessed that wouldn't last. Spoilers for trying to make sense of Emma's sudden turn from last night._

Killian left her with another kiss at the door to her room, another promise sealed into her skin. She felt better than she had in all the time they'd been at Camelot, finally for once left to the peace of her own thoughts. Emma leaned against the heavy oak door and sighed, glad to have the privacy of her own room. If they were back at the loft her happy smile and blushing cheeks would have prompted too many questions from her parents. (Well, from her mother at least.)

For the first time she felt as though Killian and Henry's faith in her wasn't misplaced. Getting her heart racing, getting Rumplestiltskin out of her head... maybe she really could do this. Maybe it was possible to fight off the darkness and _win_.

Warmth curled in her stomach at the thought and spread through the rest of her as she remembered how her son and pirate had cared for her earlier in the day. Henry leading them to his peaceful spot, Killian and his patient encouragement. She had to hand it to him — even in seemingly the worst of circumstances he could still pull off one hell of a date.

Her skin tingled just thinking of the meadow and she pushed off the door into the room. She was too buzzed to try and sleep but she didn't feel the need to craft more dreamcatchers either. The demon in her head was still silent and Emma almost wanted to laugh with relief.

She could defeat the darkness. She could save herself.

Her fingers trailed over the dreamcatchers she'd hung up in the window, wishing that she could hold onto this new confidence and never again be reduced to how Killian had found her the night before. Weak. Scared. Tormented. She just needed a way to free Merlin. If she could do that...

One by one the web of dreamcatchers started to glow, images and voices emerging like a display of tv screens each tuned to a different channel. She saw her parents and Arthur arguing over the dagger, the king of Camelot pulling a broken Excalibur from the stone, the first Dark One stealing Merlin's tear and turning him into a tree. None of it frightened her. Standing back to regard her handiwork, Emma smiled.


End file.
